


you beside me

by Ester



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen or Pre-Slash, Idols, M/M, known cow-enthusiast yoon jeonghan, no one loves seventeen like jeonghan, top simp choi seungcheol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27179978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ester/pseuds/Ester
Summary: “Choi Seungcheol,” Jeonghan laments, holding up his hand to show off an exaggerated tremor, “Look, I’m shivering. I have been all day.”// Jeonghan gets cold and makes it everybody's problem.
Relationships: Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Yoon Jeonghan
Comments: 28
Kudos: 242





	you beside me

**Author's Note:**

> A self-indulgent little thing as a birthday present for myself.

1.

Usually, Jeonghan likes outdoor filming, especially somewhere green and not crowded. Sound doesn’t echo so much, there’s space for their crew to spread out more comfortably, and more interesting things to look at during the inevitable long waits between shots than some grey wall of a studio space. But now it’s October, the weather is starting to cool down and the wind is picking up.

The farm they’re at for a future episode of Going Seventeen is two hours away from Seoul, at the foot of a large hill. There are a couple of barns and a neat little square of ploughed field Jeonghan suspects they’re going to have to get into at some point. Staff hasn’t been very forthcoming of the concept apart from “farm life” but there’s already been a chicken herding challenge. Chan won it with such ease Jeonghan suspects he’s somehow managing to lead a double life as a poultry farmer.

Jeonghan is cold. They haven’t shot a scene in half an hour – the lighting crew is setting up for a scene in one of the barns. He’s wearing a pair of jean overalls and a sweater to really hammer home the concept and he can’t find his padded coat anywhere, having stowed it away into a car that is no longer there. He considers his options.

The thing about shoots is that as soon as a camera turns off, everyone disperses like vapour. Some members head for the nearest bathroom immediately, some find food, some an outlet to charge their phones. Combining that with an outdoor area makes finding a good place to rest more challenging. Not impossible, of course, Jeonghan has had plenty of practise to hone his skills, but more difficult than it needs to be. Finally, he spots Minghao sitting on a folding chair by the chicken coop, nose in phone, a free chair next to him, and – most importantly – a comically oversized scarf wrapped at least three times around his neck. Jeonghan can work with that, he just needs to swing by the catering first.

“I’m cold,” Jeonghan announces his presence, a double-stacked cup in hand, held forward like an offering. Minghao looks up, blinking a little. His nose is red from the chill, just under a pair of very round glasses that make him look like an extremely learned stable hand. Jeonghan drags the free chair right next to Minghao’s and sits down, making sure to look as pitiful as possible. “I got you tea.”

Minghao has this smile Jeonghan really likes. His eyes crinkle, but the corners of his mouth turn down like he’s smiling in spite of himself. He smiles that smile and takes the cup, even locks his screen in a true show of attention. Jeonghan finds himself nervous, often; nervous about people’s expectations or reactions, nervous about their perception of him. He has never, ever, felt nervous around Minghao. There’s something about the way he looks – tender, infinitely understanding – that makes Jeonghan think he could tell him anything at all and not be afraid.

“Thank you,” he says and takes a careful sip, nodding approvingly when it passes muster. As if Jeonghan wouldn’t know, after all these years, how Minghao likes his tea. There’s a brief silence between them, while Soonyoung screams in the distance. Jeonghan almost feels warm just from this.

“Take the scarf,” Minghao allows after a few sips, craning his neck to the side a little. Jeonghan cackles and unravels the fabric from around him promptly. It’s a heavy, knitted fabric with an erratic geometric print in vibrant colours and it smells like Minghao’s perfume – something green and wet. It’s lovely and wide when unfolded, a perfect blanket for him to tuck over his shoulders and folded up knees. Minghao hands him his phone, before stretching his arm out to curl over Jeonghan’s shoulders.

“You’ll need to hold that, I was in the middle of a video,” he explains, tapping his left hand on Jeonghan’s arm, while the other gestures with the teacup.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Jeonghan says and leans his head on Minghao’s shoulder.

2.

They’re nearly done with the day’s shoot. Jeonghan is covered in bits of hay from the barn but he considers that a fair exchange for getting to pet several lovely cow snouts. The sun is starting to set, and the temperature has dropped even further. If he huffs loudly, he can see his breath. The crew is building a firepit to film a final talking scene around, but it’s still under construction. Everyone around him is wearing coats by now, but the stylist couldn’t find him a spare one and Jeonghan didn’t want to bother her further because she was halfway to tearing out her hair, trying to get dirt off Seokmin’s pants after he’d crashed directly through a hedge on his ass. Besides, Jeonghan has already spotted Mingyu in his ridiculous red duvet-esque parka that makes him look like three kids stacked on top of each other trying to get into an R-18 film. He’s standing by the monitors, looking very focused and serious – the way he gets when he’s determined to learn something new and improve himself.

“I’m cold!” Jeonghan tells him loudly, from a distance. Mingyu glances at him, a little suspicious, which is fair enough but still insulting. “Mingoo, do something.”

“What do you want?” Mingyu sighs, but his arms drop from where they were crossed in front of him and he turns to face Jeonghan as he approaches, which already means he’s won the coming argument.

“Your coat is stupid big, you can share.”

Mingyu looks at him like he’s speaking a foreign language.

“Come on now, don’t be greedy. Unzip a little for hyung,” Jeonghan grabs the zipper before Mingyu can bat his hands away and yanks it down, having to crouch a little to open it all the way. He steps closer, presses himself flush against Mingyu’s warm body, and has to suppress a shudder of delight at the heat.

“You’re so cold,” Mingyu whines, but he’s already pulling the sides of his parka closed around them both, though probably more to shield himself than Jeonghan. As if Jeonghan cares about his motivations when the result works in his favour. “Also, never say that again.”

“Don’t be a prude,” Jeonghan chides him – as much as he can with his cheek smushed against Mingyu’s chest. He nuzzles his chilly nose against his throat for emphasis and can feel more than hear Mingyu’s quiet giggle at that. Jeonghan hides a smile. “What are you doing, looking so serious?”

The distraction works. Mingyu relaxes against him and starts a long, meandering story about how he wants to direct an episode of GoSe one day. He’s been studying up on the mechanics of how the crew plans a shoot, how they scout the locations, how they set up the cameras. It’s not that Jeonghan doesn’t appreciate how much work goes into everything they do, but he has never had a personal interest in getting involved in the minutia of it all. Mingyu clearly does.

There’s a certain cadence to his voice when he starts getting really into whatever topic he’s talking about. His sibilants get softer and lazier, the little lisp comes out stronger, his voice gets louder. Jeonghan likes to listen to it, it’s like a rush of water over a cliff-edge. Like a wave crashing over stones. It used to be that he and Mingyu would have to find their positions at the edge of their work, to take what was given to them, and find a way to be satisfied with that. It’s nice to see that Mingyu’s starting to create his own space now, instead of fitting all that he is into a predetermined slot. He’s so much person, it feels like some days, that even though his body is big and strong, it still isn’t quite enough to hold all of him. There’s so much love in Mingyu, for people and for things, that it keeps leaking out at the seams.

While Mingyu speaks, Jeonghan tries a little game. Slowly, he relaxes more and more against Mingyu, shifting his weight in increments. Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice, but his arms tighten around Jeonghan’s waist instinctually. Finally, he’s practically holding Jeonghan up, which he seems to realise only when the crew gets the firepit going and the call comes for them to get into position.

“Hey!” Mingyu exclaims, staggering a little and trying to push Jeonghan onto his own feet. He laughs and ducks away from a slap, jogging to the now roaring fire.

3.

Jeonghan asks for the car heating on full blast as soon as he gets in. Joshua’s spread out on the front passenger seat, protesting like the narrow-minded coat-wearer he is. Jeonghan tugs at the hair on the back of his neck in revenge and turns to Seungcheol, who’s settling down next to him in the backseat, for sympathy.

“It’s warm here,” Seungcheol tells him, also wearing a coat like a villain. His big eyes are amused in the low light. He looks like the pretty cows Jeonghan met earlier in the day. Jeonghan will not tell such nice things to him, though, if he continues to be this cruel.

“Choi Seungcheol,” Jeonghan laments, holding up his hand to show off an exaggerated tremor, “Look, I’m shivering. I have been all day.” It’s pure good luck that a genuine cold shiver runs up his back while he’s lying. He sees Seungcheol’s resolve crumble. He knew it would. Seungcheol is possibly the softest thing on the planet.

“You could’ve said so earlier,” Seungcheol mumbles, reaching over to rummage in his backpack. With some effort, he pulls out a familiar blanket, rolled up neatly. It’s the one that is usually draped over the dorm sofa, cream-coloured tartan pattern, and an eternal stain from where Jeonghan spilled coke on it once. Jeonghan has had many a good nap under this blanket. They are friends. “I wasn’t carrying this around all day for fun.”

Jeonghan takes the blanket, thrown off his plan to whine and be a nuisance. It’s unsettling how often that happens around Seungcheol – even though he can anticipate his reaction to things somewhat, there’s always a little something about him that throws Jeonghan for a loop. Something that he’s failing to see about him as a person under the fat ass and the cow eyes. It’s galling. He prides himself on knowing his members and anticipating their needs, it’s what he brings to the team. It’s unacceptable that Choi Seungcheol, who would tear his heart out for a stranger on the street, still remains a mystery. 

“You had this for me?” he asks and wants to cringe at the way his voice goes a little high and cooing.

“You’re always cold,” Seungcheol says like it’s the easiest, most obvious thing in the world. Yoon Jeonghan is always cold, and he likes to take naps. So Seungcheol carries around a blanket. One plus one equals two. 

“Oh.”

For a moment, Jeonghan draws a blank. There’s something about this that feels very obvious, hovering at the edge of his brain, but that he just can’t grasp and unravel. The car jolts a little as the driver starts the engine and pulls onto the road. Jeonghan squirms halfway out from his seatbelt and flops down across the backseat so that his head lands on Seungcheol’s thigh, before covering himself with the blanket. He sneaks a cold hand under Seungcheol’s thigh like he would under a pillow, ignoring the mild protest. Seungcheol is so warm. Maybe the warmest, ever. He deserves a compliment.

“In the barn today,” Jeonghan says then, craning up a little to catch Seungcheol’s attention, “I realised you have pretty eyes, like a cow.”

Seungcheol’s face does something complicated between a blush and a grimace that Jeonghan can’t figure out. He sweeps a bit of hair behind Jeonghan’s ear before his hand comes to rest on the curve of his hip, patting it a little before settling down, nice and heavy, thumb pressing against bone.

“Thanks.”

**Author's Note:**

> jeonghan loves seventeen and i love him. come say hi [@yilinges](https://twitter.com/yilinges) on twitter.


End file.
